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BANCROFT 
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THE  LIBRARY 

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THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


9  jjf 

I 


The  Moki  Snake  Dance 


<A  popular  account  of  thai  unparalleled 

dramatic  pagan  ceremony  of  the 

Pueblo  Indians  of  Tusayan, 

(Arizona,  'with  incidental 

mention  of  their  life 

and  customs. 


BY  WALTER  HOUGH,  PH.  D 


Sixty-four  Half-tone  Illustrations  from 
Special  Photographs. 


THIRTY-SECOND  THOUSAND. 


Published  by  the  Passenger  Department 

SANTA  FE  ROUTE, 

J900 


Bancroft 


RACER 


JUST  at  the  dawn  of  an  August  morning 
groups  of  eager  watchers  sit  along  the 
precipitous    cliffs    or    slopes    of   a    mesa 
bearing  on  its  ^rest  a  Moki  village.     All 
faces   are  turned  in   one  direction ;   the  gray 
1'   ht    becomes   many-hued    before    the    near 
~a}j^.  4§~     ~*    *3r  A    murmur     passes 

through  t.          >wd ,  distance  a  number 

of  dark  forms  are  seen  running  toward  the 
mes%;  nearer  they  come,  pursued  by  boys  and 
girls  with  wands  of  cornstalk,  and  run  up  the 
tortuous  trail  as  though  on  level  ground.  As 
the  sun  appears  above  the  eastern  horizon  the 
winner  passes  over  the  roof  of  the  Snake  kiva  and  the 
day  of  the  Snake  dance  has  begun  with  the  Snake  race. 
The  runners  deposit  the  melon  vines,  corn  and  other 
products  they  have  carried  from  the  fields,  and  the 
panting  victor  gets  for  his  prize  the  glory  of  winning. 
As  in  the  Greek  games,  the  Mokis  honor  the  swift 
runner. 

As  the  day  wears  on  the  interest  centers  in  the  kivas, 
where  swarthy  priests  are  bringing  to  a  close  the  myste- 
rious rites  begun  days  before,  when  the  astronomer  Sun 
priest  had  directed  the  town  crier  to  announce  the  com- 
mencement of  the  ceremony.  Since  that  time  the  priests 
had  descended  into  the  kiva,  and  a  fleet  runner  had  each 
day  carried  plumed  prayer-sticks  to  the  distant  springs 
and  shrines.  Four  days  to  the  north,  west,  south  and 
east  snakes  had  been  hunted.  Then  came  the  Antelope 
dance  on  the  evening  before  the  Snake  dance;  the  sixteen 
songs  and  drama  were  enacted  in  the  kiva  while  the 


WOLPI,      THE   PLACE  OF  THE  GAP." 


Snake  race  was  being  run,  and  the  time     *^K 

is  now  ripe  for  the  final  spectacle.     The 

snakes  have  been  washed  and  placed  in  jars  and 

the  costuming  begins.     Long-haired,  painted  priests  in 

scanty  attire  emerge  from  the  kivas  and  go  on  various 

errands.     Visitors  and  Mokis  examine  one  another  with 

mutual  curiosity;  the  children  are  having  a  jolly  time, 

for  the  Snake  dance  conies  in  their  village  but  once  in 

two  years,  and  white  visitors  are  sure  to  bring  candy  to 

put  a  climax  to  the  stuffing  of  new  corn,  melons  and 

other  good  things  of  August. 

Other  dances  of  the  Mokis  are  more  pleasing,  as  the 
Kachina  dances,  with  their  mirth  and  music,  or  the 
Flute  dance,  full  of  color  and  ceremony,  but  the  Snake 
dance  attracts  with  a  potent  fascination.  One  gets  so 
interested  in  the  progress  of  the  dance  that  the  antici- 
pated element  of  horror  does  not  appear  amid  the 
rhythmic  movement  and  tragic  gestures  of  the  dancers 
with  here  and  there  the  sinuous  undulation  of  a  venom- 
ous rattlesnake.  Along  the  sky-line  of  the  houses  and 
on  every  available  foothold  and  standing  place  are  spec- 
tators. At  Wolpi,  the  top  of  the  mushroom-shaped 
rock  is  a  favorite  seat.  The  crowd  is  hardly  less  inter- 
esting than  the  dancers.  Everyone,  except  the  white 
visitor,  is  in  gala  costume,  Moki  and  Navajo  vying  in 
gaudy  colors.  The  Moki  maidens  have  their  hair  done 


up  in  great  whorls  of  shining  blackness  at  the  sides  of 
their  heads.  The  women,  who  have  brushed  away  the 
evidences  of  preparation  for  the  feast  to  follow  the  dance, 
now  appear  at  their  best,  and  the  children  dash  around, 
consuming  unlimited  slices  of  watermelon.  Mormons, 
be-pistoled  cowboys,  prospectors,  army  officers,  teachers 
from  the  schools,  scientists,  photographers,  and  tourists 
in  the  modern  costume  suitable  for  camp  life,  mingle 
with  the  Indian  spectators  in  motley  confusion.  Not 
less  than  one  hundred  white  people  witnessed  the  Snake 
dance  at  Wolpi  in  1897.  Bach  year  there  is  a  larger 
attendance. 

If  the  visitor  will  look  around  he  will  see  that  at  one 
side  of  the  dance  plaza  there  is  a  bower  of  green  cotton- 
wood  branches,  the  kisi,  where  the  snakes  are  to  be  kept 
in  readiness  during  the  dance.  The  descending  sun 
casts  a  long  shadow  eastward  from  the  kisi  when  a  priest 
enters  the  plaza  with  a  bag  containing  the  reptiles  and 

quickly  disappears 
among  the  branches. 
This  is  the  man  who 
hands  the  snakes 


MOKI    CHILDREN. 


out  to  the 
dancers 
through  a 
small  open- 
ing in  the 


front  of  the  kisi.  The  expectancy  now 
is  intense.  All  eyes  are  fixed  in  the 
direction  from  which  the  priests  will 
appear.  The  sun  sinks  lower  and  the 
evening  colors  steal  into  the  landscape, 
but  no  one  notices  them. 

' '  Here  they  come  ! ' '  The  grand 
entry  of  the  Antelope  priests  causes  a 
sensation.  With  bare  feet,  and  their 
semi-nude  bodies  streaked  with  white 
paint ;  a  band  of  white  on  the  chin 
from  mouth  to  ear,  rattles  of  tortoise 
shell  tied  to  the  knee,  embroidered 
kilts  of  white  cotton  fastened  around 
the  loins,  necklaces  of 
shell  and  turquoise,  and 
fox  skins  hanging  behind 
from  the  belt,  these  priests 
present  a  startling  though 
not  unattractive  appear- 
ance. At  the  head  of  the 
file  comes  the  Antelope 
Chief  bearing  his  tiponi  or  sacred  badge  across  his  left 
arm.  Next  comes  the  bearer  of  the  medicine  bowl.  All 
the  other  priests  carry  a  small  rattle  in  either  hand. 
With  stately  mien,  and  looking  to  neither  right  nor  left, 
the  Antelope  priests  pass  four  times  around  the  plaza  to 
the  left,  each  sprinkling  sacred  meal  and  stamping 
violently  upon  the  plank  in  the  ground  in  front  of  the 
kisi.  The  hole  in  the  middle  of  the  plank  is  the  opening 
into  the  under-world  and  the  dancers  stamp  upon  it  to 
inform  the  spirits  of  their  ancestors  that  a  ceremony  is 
in  progress.  Fortunate  is  the  man  who  breaks  the  board 
with  his  foot !  When  the  circuit  is  made,  the  Antelope 
priests  line  up  in  front  of  the  kisi  facing  outward  ;  tlu-tv 
is  a  hush  and  the  Snake  priests  enter. 


l&9f>,by  tf.  W harton  James.     {/«•</  />;/  j>-- 
ANTELOPE  PRIEST. 


The  grand  entry  of  the  Snake  priests  is  dramatic  to 
the  last  degree.  With  majestic  strides  they  hasten  into 
the  plaza,  every  attitude  full  of  energy  and  fierce 
determined  purpose.  The  costume  of  the  priests  of  the 
sister  society  of  Antelopes  is  gay  in  comparison  with 
that  of  the  Snake  priests.  Their  bodies  rubbed  with 
red  paint,  their  chins  blackened  and  outlined  with  a 
white  stripe,  their  dark  red  kilts  and  moccasins,  their 
barbaric  ornaments,  give  the  Snake  priests  a  most 
somber  and  diabolical  appearance.  Around  the  plaza, 
by  a  wider  circuit  than  the  Antelopes,  they  go  striking 
the  sipapu  plank  with  the  foot  and  fiercely  leaping 
upon  it  with  wild  gestures.  Four  times  the  circuit  is 
made ;  then  a  line  is  formed  facing  the  line  of  the 
Antelopes,  who  cease  shaking  their  rattles  which  simu- 
late the  warning  note  of  the  rattlesnake.  A  moment's 
pause  and  the  rattles  begin  again  and  a  deep  humming 
chant  accompanies  them.  The  priests  sway  from  side 


FLUTE   DANCE,   ORAIBI.         Higgins,  plioto 


to  side,  sweeping  their  eagle-feather  snake  whips  toward 
the  ground  ;  the  song  grows  louder  and  the  lines  sway 
backward  and  forward  toward  each  other  like  two  long, 
undulating  serpents.  The  bearer  of  the  medicine  walks 
back  and  forth  between  the  lines  and  sprinkles  the 
charm  liquid  to  the  compass  points. 

All  at  once  the  Snake  line  breaks  up  into  groups  of 
three,  composed  of  the  "carrier"  and  two  attendants. 
The  song  becomes  more  animated  and  the  groups  dance, 
or  rather  hop,  around  in  a  circle  in  front  of  the  kisi,  one 
attendant  (the  "hugger")  placing  his  arm  over  the 
shoulder  of  the  "carrier  "  and  the  other  (the  "  gatherer  ") 
walking  behind.  In  all  this  stir  and  excitement  it  has 
been  rather  difficult  to  see  why  the  "  carrier  "  dropped  on 
his  knees  in  front  of  the  kisi ;  a  moment  later  he  is  seen 
to  rise  with  a  squirming  snake,  which  he  places  midway 
in  his  mouth,  and  the  trio  dance  around  the  circle,  fol- 
lowed by  other  trios  bearing  hideous  snakes.  The 
' '  hugger ' '  waves  his  feather  wand  before  the  snake  to 
attract  its  attention,  but  the  reptile  inquiringly  thrusts 

its  head  against  the 
"carrier's"  breast  and 
cheeks  and  twists  its 
body  into  knots  and 
coils.  On  come  the 
demoniacal  groups,  to 
music  now  deep  and 
resonant  and  now  ris- 
ing to  a  frenzied  pitch, 
accompanied  by  the  un- 
ceasing sibilant  rattles 
of  the  Antelope  chorus. 
Four  times  around  and 
the  "carrier"  opens 
his  mouth  and  drops 
the  snake  to  the  ground 


)RS     WOLPI. 


KACHINA   DANCERS. 


and  the  "gatherer"  dextrously 
picks  it  up,  adding  in  the  same 
manner  from  time  to  time  other 
snakes,  till  he  may  have  quite  a 
bundle  composed  of  rattlesnakes, 
bull  snakes  and  arrow  snakes. 
The  bull  snakes  are  large  and 
showy,  and  impressive  out  of 
proportion  to  their  harmfulness. 
When  all  the  snakes  have  been 
duly  danced  around  the  ring, 
and  the  nerve  tension  is  at  its 
highest  pitch,  there  is  a  pause ; 
the  old  priest  advances  to  an 
open  place  and  sprinkles  sacred 
meal  on  the  ground,  outlining  a 
ring  with  the  six  compass  points, 

while    the   Snake  priests  gather  around.     At  a  given 

signal  the  snakes  are  thrown  on  the  meal  drawing  and 

a  wild  scramble  for  them  ensues,  amid 

a  rain  of  spittle  from  the  spectators  on 

the  walls  above.     Only  an  instant   and 

the  priests  start  up,  each   with  one   or 

more  snakes;    away  they  dart   for    the 

trail  to   carry   the    rain  -  bringing    mes- 
sengers to   their  native   hiding   places. 

They  dash  down  the  mesa  and  reappear 

far   out    on   the   trails    below,   running 

like  the  wind  with  their  grewsome  bur- 
dens.    The  Antelope  priests  next  march 

gravely   around    the    plaza    four   times, 

thumping    the    sunken    plank,    and  file 

out    to    their  kiva.     The    ceremony    is 

done. 

Stay !    there    is    another    scene   in 

this  drama  which   may  seem  a  fitting 


NAVAJO  SPECTATOR. 


termination.  Whoever  wishes  may  go  to  look  on,  but 
not  everyone  goes.  The  Snake  priests  return,  go  to 
the  kiva  and  remove  all  their  trappings,  come  out 
to  the  edge  of  the  cliff  where  the  medicine  women 
have  brought  great  bowls  of  a  dark  liquid  brewed 
in  secrecy  and  mystery.  No  one  knows  the  herbs  and 
spells  in  this  liquid  but  Salako  of  Wolpi,  the  head 
Snake  woman  of  the  Moki  pueblos.  The  priests  drink 
of  the  medicine ;  in  about  forty-five  seconds  it  sees 
the  light  of  day  again.  They  repeat  the  opera- 
tion, and  so  goes  on  a  scene  that  beggars  descrip- 
tion. Even  scientific  equanimity  cannot  observe  with- 
out qualms  that  this  is  a  purification  ceremony,  carried 
out  by  the  priests  with  the  ruthlessness  of  devotion. 
This  feature  of  the  dance,  however,  will  never  become 
popular.  Various  explanations  of  the  purpose  of  the 
medicine  have  been  current.  It  has  been  supposed, 
among  others,  to  be  the  antidote  for  the  venom  of  the 
rattlesnake.  Probably  it  is  only  for  ceremonial  purifica- 
tion ;  at  any  rate  it  is  a  good  preparation  for  the  great 


feast  following  the 

For    this    feast 

come  bearing  trays 


dance. 

fair  maidens  and    trim   women 
of  gala  bread,  well  cooked  meat, 
corn  pudding  and  other  dain- 
ties and  substantials   in    pro- 
fusion.    That   night    there    is 
feasting  and  every  Moki 
gets  what  the  cow- 
boys call  a  "  mortal 
gorge."      Next    day 
and  the  day  follow- 
ing   the    boys    and 
girls  have  great  sport 
in    the  pueblos.      A 
young  man  will  take 
a  ribbon,  a  piece  of 


DANCE  ROCK  AND  KI8I. 


MOKI   GIRLS. 


Hillers,  photo. 


Copyright,  1896,  by  G.  Wharton  James. 

ANTELOPE  CIRCUIT,  ORAIBI. 

pottery  or  any  other  object  and  appear  on  the  house- 
tops or  street,  only  to  be  set  upon  and  chased  by  the 
girls  bent  on  securing  the  prize. 

Many  questions  suggest  themselves  to  everyone  who 
witnesses  the  Snake  dance.  Some  do  not  seem  to  be 
very  easy  to  answer,  and  some  are  those  which,  perhaps, 
the  wisest  and  most  lore-learned  priest  cannot  answer 
now  after  the  lapse  of  centuries  since 
the  ceremony  began.  Still,  most  of  us 
can  leave  them  for  the  scien- 
tists to  pore  over. 
What  everyone  wants 
to  know 


CIRCUIT  OF  ANTELOPE  PRIESTS,  WOLPI. 


is  whether  the  snakes  are  drugged  or  have  their  fangs 
removed,  and,  if  not,  whether  they  ever  bite  their  captors. 
Men  who  have  attended  as  many  as  ten  dances  in  various 
Moki  pueblos  say  that  they  have  never  seen  a  dancer 
bitten  by  a  poisonous  snake,  while  others  have  seen  a 
reptile  strike  or  perhaps  fasten  upon  the  hand  of  a 
dancer  and  require  to  be  shaken  off.  In  the  present 
state  of  the  question  everyone  must  judge  for  himself. 
One  thing  is  very  certain,  the  Mokis  are  extremely  care- 
ful with  a  poisonous  snake.  At  Wolpi,  in  1897,  two 


ENTRANCE  OF  SNAKE  PRIESTS,   WOLPI. 


large  rattlesnakes,  which  from  their  age  had  perhaps 
been  danced  around  the  ring  before,  coiled  together  and 
for  a  time  refused  to  move,  almost  breaking  up  the  per- 
formance. An  experienced  snake  driver  at  length  suc- 
ceeded in  making  them  uncoil,  when  they  were  easily 
picked  up.  This  is  thought  to  be  the  secret  of  handling 
the  rattlesnake  ;  never  to  handle  him  when  he  is  coiled, 
for  it  is  said  that  this  serpent  cannot  strike  without 


13 


n,  photo. 


coiling.  Then,  too,  the  snakes  may  have  been  some- 
what subjugated  by  their  bewildering  treatment,  since 
they  were  dragged  from  their  haunts  by  naked  men 
armed  with  hoes  and  sticks,  thrust  with  other  snakes 
into  a  bag  and  brought  to  the  kivas,  and  afterward 
washed  and  uncivilly  flung  about. 

The  Snake  dance  is  exciting  enough,  but  the  two  or 
three  men  who  have  witnessed  the  sinister  rites  called 
' '  snake  washing ' '  in  the  dark  kiva  tell  a  story  which 
makes  the  blood  curdle.  Doctor  Fewkes  relates  this 
experience  as  follows  : 

"The  Snake  priests,  who  stood  by  the  snake  jars  which  were 
in  the  east  corner  of  the  room,  began  to  take  out  the  reptiles,  and 
stood  holding  several  of  them  in  their  hands  behind  Su-pe-la,  so 
that  my  attention  was  distracted  by  them.  Su-pe-la  then 
prayed,  and  after  a  short  interval  two  rattlesnakes  were 
handed  him,  after  which  other  venomous  snakes  were 
passed  to  the  others, 
and  each  of  the  six 
priests  who  sat  around 
the  bowl  held  two  rat- 
tlesnakes by  the  necks 
with  their  heads  ele- 
vated above  the  bowl. 
A  low  noise  from  the 
rattles  of  the  priests, 


CIRCUIT  OF  SNAKE  PRIE8T8,  WOUPI. 


Copyright,  1896,  by  G.  Wliarton  James. 

ANTELOPES   IN   LINE,   ORAIBI. 


Used  by  permission. 


which  shortly  after  was  accompanied  by  a  melodious  hum  by 
all  present,  then  began.  The  priests  who  held  the  snakes  beat 
time  up  and  down  above  the  liquid  with  the  reptiles,  which, 
although  not  vicious,  wound  their  bodies  around  the  arms  of  the 
holders.  The  song  went  on  and  frequently  changed,  growing 
louder  and  wilder,  until  it  burst  forth  into  a  fierce,  blood-cur- 
dling yell,  or  war-cry.  At  this  moment  the  heads  of  the  snakes 
were  thrust  several  times  into  the  liquid,  so  that  even  parts 
of  their  bodies  were  submerged,  and  were  then  drawn  out, 
not  having  left  the  hands  of  the  priests,  and  forcibly  thrown 
across  the  room  upon  the  sand  mosaic,  knocking  down  the 
crooks  and  other  objects  placed  about  it.  As  they  fell  on  the  sand 
picture  three  Snake  priests  stood  in  readiness,  and  while  the  rep- 
tiles squirmed  about  or  coiled  for  defense,  these  men  with  their 
snake  whips  brushed  them  back  and  forth  in  the  sand  of  the  altar. 
The  excitement  which  accompanied  this  ceremony  cannot  be 
adequately  described.  The  low  song,  breaking  into  piercing 
shrieks,  the  red-stained  singers,  the  snakes  thrown  by  the  chiefs, 
and  the  fierce  attitudes  of  the  reptiles  as  they  landed  on  the  sand 
mosaic,  made  it  next  to  impossible  to  sit  calmly  down  and  quietly 


In 


LINE-UP  BEFORE  KlSI,   WOLPI. 

note  the  events  which  followed  one  after  another  in  quick  succes- 
sion. The  sight  haunted  me  for  weeks  afterwards,  and  I  can  never 
forget  this  wildest  of  all  the  aboriginal  rites  of  this  strange  people, 
which  showed  no  element  of  our  present  civilization.  It  was  a  per- 
formance which  might  have  been  expected  in  the  heart  of  Africa 
rather  than  in  the  American  Union,  and  certainly  one  could  not 
realize  that  he  was  in  the  United  States  at  the  end  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  The  low  weird  song  continued  while  other  rattlesnakes 
were  taken  in  the  hands  of  the  priests,  and  as  the  song  rose  again 
to  the  wild  war-cry,  these  snakes  were  also  plunged  into  the  liquid 
and  thrown  upon  the  writhing  mass  which  now  occupied  the  place 
of  the  altar.  Again  and  again  this  was  repeated  until  all  the  snakes 
had  been  treated  in  the  same  way,  and  reptiles,  fetiches,  crooks 
and  sand  were  mixed  together  in  one  confused  mass.  As  the 
excitement  subsided  and  the  snakes  crawled  to  the  corners  of  the 
kiva,  seeking  vainly  for  protection,  they  were  again  pushed  back 
in  the  mass,  and  brushed  together  in  the  sand  in  order  that  their 


If, 


bodies  might  be  thoroughly  dried.  Every  snake  in  the  collection 
was  thus  washed,  the  harmless  varieties  being  oathed  after  the 
venomous.  In  the  destruction  of  the  altar  by  the  reptiles  the  snake 
ti-po-ni  stood  upright  until  all  had  been  washed,  and  then  one  of 
the  priests  turned  it  on  its  side,  as  a  sign  that  the  observance  had 
ended.  The  low,  weird  song  of  the  Snake  men  continued,  and 
gradually  died  away  until  there  was  no  sound  but  the  warning 
rattle  of  the  snakes,  mingled  with  that  of  the  rattles  in  the  hands 
of  the  chiefs,  and  finally  the  motion  of  the  snake 
whips  ceased,  and  all  was  silent."  * 


CHANTING   BEFORE  KISI,   WOLPI. 


Vroman,  photo. 


The  Mokis  have  an  antidote  for  snake  bite  made  from 
the  root  of  a  plant  called  by  botanists  Gaura  parviflora . 
They  do  not  know  the  white  man's  fiery  antidote  and 
panacea,  but  expert  opinion  declares  that  one  remedy  is 
as  good  as  the  other.  Snakes  are  scarce  in  Tusayan, 
although  they  seem  plentiful  at  the  Snake  dances.  Still, 


*The  Snake  Ceremony  at  Wolpi,  Jour.  Am.  EJth.  &  Arch.,  Vol. 
IV,  pp.  84,  85. 


17 


it  requires  four 
days  of  vigilant 
search  to  the  four 
points  of  the  com- 
pass to  procure 
enough.  Some 
years  ago,  a  Wolpi 
farmer,  while  in 
his  cornfield,  was 
bitten  on  the  hand 
by  a  rattlesnake, 

and  the  combined  efforts  of  the    Indian    doctors  and 
some  white  people  who  happened  to   be  near  by  were 
applied  for  his  relief.     After  a  great  deal  of  suffering 
he  recovered.     Soon  after,  the  Snake  Society  informed 
him   that  he  must  become  a  Snake  priest, 
because  he  was  favored   by  the  rattlesnake. 
Perhaps  Intiwa,  for  that  was  his  name,  did    \r 


Copyright,  1896,  by  G.  Whatton  James.     Used  by  per 
FACE  VIEW,  SNAKE   PRIESTS,  ORAIBI. 


CHANTING   BEFORE   KISI,  ORAIBI. 


M.II,,!.;   ,,>,„/<>. 


TRIO  OF   DANCERS. 


not  see  where  the  favor  came 
in,  but  he  was  duly  installed 
as  a  member  of  the  Society. 
Turning  now  from  this 
strange,  nerve -wrenching 
scene,  which  many  have 
crossed  the  mysterious 
Painted  Desert  north  of  the 
Little  Colorado  river  to  wit- 
ness, some  general  account 
of  the  Mokis  should  be  inter- 
esting. Perched  upon  high, 
warm -tinted  sandstone 
mesas,  narrow  like  the  decks 
of  great  Atlantic  liners,  are  their  clustered  dwellings, 
scarcely  to  be  distinguished  from  the  living  rock 
upon  which  they  rest.  High  up  above  the  plain, 
viewing  from  all  sides  an  almost  illimitable  distance, 
basking  in  the  brilliant  sunshine  from  sunrise  to  sunset, 
bathed  in  the  pure,  life-giving  air,  the  Mokis,  or  "  good 
people,"*  as  they  delight  to  call  themselves,  must  feel 
freedom  in  its  truest  sense.  Here  is  isolation.  In  the 
long  centuries  the  Mokis  have  dwelt  here  they  have  had 
few  visitors.  The  all-venturing  Spaniards,  in  their  six- 
teenth century  quest  for  the  mythical 
doorposts  of  gold  set  with  jewels,  were 
way-weary  long  before  their  toilsome 
journey  brought  them  to  the  base  of  the 
giant  mesas.  In  this  semi-desert,  far  out 
of  the  trail  traveled  by  friends  and 
foes,  the  Mokis  found  the  desired 

*  The  name  by  which  these  people  are 
known  among  themselves  is   Hopi,  whose 
signification  is  as  stated.     Moki  is  a  derisive 
name,  originally  applied  by  outsiders, 
which    unfortunately    seems    fated    to 
stick. 


19 


Copyright,  1896,  by 
F.  H.  Maude, 


Used  by  permission. 
DANCERS,  ORAIBI. 


seclusion  and  peace  after  the  harrying  of  the   Apache 
and  Ute,  whose  hand  was  against  every  man. 

Perhaps  the  word  mysterious  as  applied  to  the  desert 
may  need  explanation  to  city-dwellers  and  those  who  are 
accustomed  to  limited  horizons.  In  the  desert  a  new  sen- 
sation comes  to  those  who  have  exhausted  the  repertory  of 
sensations  at  the  end  of  a  rapid  century.  In  the  desert 
the  desert  is  supreme.  The  sense  of  freedom  and  exhil- 
aration, which  everyone  must  feel,  is  personal ;  the  des- 
ert is  titanic;  gradually  it  com- 
pels awe  and  wonder.  A  feeling 


Copyright,  1896,  by  F.  H.  Maude. 

THE   DANCE,  ORAIBI. 

Ue«d  by  permission. 

of  vastness,  almost  infinity,  dawns  in  the  mind  with 
an  impression  of  mystery.  Here  thousands  of  square 
miles  stretch  in  iridescent  beauty  to  the  violet  horizon 
or.  to  the  velvety  blue  mountains;  nearer  stand  the 
strange  forms  of  the  volcanic  buttes  ;  across  the  sand 
plain  the  purple  cloud  shadows  float,  attended  by 
the  tawny  sand  whirlwinds ;  a  distant  thunderstorm 
marches  along,  dwarfed  in  all  its  energy  to  a  small  part 
of  the  scene.  The  morning  and  evening  reveal  new 


coloring  and  beauty  beyond  the  power  of  pen  or  pencil 
to  depict.  With  the  night  new  experiences  come  in  the 
desert.  In  the  clear  air  of  Tusayan  myriads  of  stars  are 
revealed.  It  is  not  often  the  good  fortune  of  the  astron- 
omer to  enjoy  such  skies  for  observation.  Stars  of  low 
magnitude,  rarely  seen  elsewhere,  are  easily  found  in 
the  night  heavens  of  Tusayan.  It  may  seem  like 
romancing,  but  it  is  true,  the  powdery,  misty  starlight 
is  strong  enough  to  admit  of  reading  the  dial  of  a  watch 
and  to  distinguish  the  outline  of  mesas  and  buttes  miles 
away.  Then  the  silence  of  the  night  is  overpowering. 
Not  a  cricket  chirps  and  no  animal  disturbs  the  almost 
oppressive  silence. 

When  the  conquistadores  came  to  Tusayan,  some 
three  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  they  found  the  Mokis 
high  up  on  the  mesas,  but  not  on  the  rocky  tops  where 
the  towns  are  now  built.  This  meeting  of  the  Conquerors 


THE  DANCE,  WOLPI. 


Vrotnan,  photo. 


FOOD   BRINGING. 


Voth,  pltoto. 


and  the  Mokis  has  always 
seemed  a  picturesque  sub- 
ject. The  Spaniards  re- 
corded their  experiences 
and  the  Mokis  relate  the 
traditions  of  the  experi- 
ences of  their  forefathers 
passed  along  by  word  of 
mouth,  accurate  as  if 
written  down.  Beneath 
the  town  then  perched 
on  the  higher  slope  of 
the  Wolpi  mesa,  came  a  band  of  horsemen,  some  clad 
in  armor  and  warlike  trappings  badly  damaged  and 
battered  by  wear  and  tear,  but  impressive  to  the 
Indian,  who  for  the  first  time  saw  the  white  man. 
Perhaps  the  Mokis  were  not  very  friendly.  The  war- 
rior priest  strode  down  the  trail  followed  by  his  band 
and  drew  a  line  of  sacred  meal  across  the  path  to 
the  town,  over  which,  according  to  immemorial  custom, 
no  one  might  come  with  impunity.  This  "dead  line  " 
brought  death  instead  to  the  Mokis.  At  the  fire  of  the 
dreadful  guns  they  fled  up  the  narrow  trail  to  refuge. 
The  Spaniards  dared  not  follow  up  the  rocky  way,  but 
camped  for  the  night  by  a  spring.  In  the  morning  the 
timorous  Mokis  came  down  with  presents  of  food  and 
woven  stuffs.  This  is  the  first  picture  of  the  Mokis  of 
Wolpi,  who  were  thus  introduced  to  the  proud  Castiliau, 
bent  on  reaching  new  lands  to  despoil.  Later  came  a 
new  company,  bringing  priests  to  turn  the  peaceful  peo- 
ple from  their  native  superstitions.  When  the  town  of 
Wolpi  burst  upon  their  view  it  was  a  new  town,  built  on 
the  highest  summit  of  the  mesa  !  The  timid  people  had 
moved  up  from  the  lower  point,  taking  with  them  house 
l>eanis,  stones,  and  every  other  portion  of  their  dwell- 
ings. The  trails  were  rendered  inaccessible  and  the 


people  ascended  and  descended  by  a  movable  ladder. 
Still  they  received  the  priests  and  submitted  to  the 
enforced  labor  of  building  a  church,  carrying,  with 
infinite  toil,  beams  of  cottonwood  from  the  Little  Colo- 
rado. Many  of  these  carved  beams  now  support  the 
roofs  of  the  pagan  kivas.  Later,  when  the  oppression 
grew  too  great,  the  Mokis  committed  one  of  the  few 
overt  acts  which  may  be  charged  against  them.  They 
threw  the  "long  gowns,"  as  they  called  the  friars,  over 
the  cliffs,  and  cut  loose  once  for  all  from  the  foreign 
religion.  This  ended  the  contact  of  the  whites  with  the 
Mokis  for  long  years  until,  at  last,  the  Government  took 
them  under  its  protection. 

But  the  Moki  had  immemorial  enemies,  as  has  been 
hinted.  The  Apache,  who  centuries  ago  came  out  of  the 
high  north,  a  rude  and  fierce  being,  incapable  of  high 
things,  is  responsible  for  the  acropolis  towns  all  along 
the  trails  by  which  the  Moki  clans  came  to  Tusayan. 
The  history  of  the  wanderings  of  the  Moki  to  this  land 
of  scant  promise  would  be  interesting  if  all  the  threads 


Copyright,  1S96.  by  G.  WTiarton  James. 


SNAKES,  IN  KIVA. 


Maude,  photo. 
TIPONI. 


could  be  gathered  together.  The  story 
goes  somewhat  in  this  fashion  :  Long 
ago  —  how  long  one  may  guess  as  well 
as  another  and  get  as  near  to  it  as  the 
Mokis,  who  say  it  was  "very,  very 
when  " —  groups  of  Indians  belonging  to 
the  great  Uto-Aztecan  stock  and  other 
pueblo  stocks  lived  over  all  this  region. 
The  limits  of  this  vast  region  are  more 
accurately  found  in  the  States  of  Utah, 
Colorado,  New  Mexico  and  Arizona  and 
reach  over  into  Mexico.  This  ruin- 
strewn  expanse  tells  the  story  of  many 
wanderings  and  movings  about,  through 
the  forgotten  years,  before  the  pueblo 
peoples  were  settled  in  the  places  where 
the  white  man  found  them.  The  re- 
mains of  ancient  monarchies  are,  per- 
haps, more  interesting  from  their  connection  with  the 
world's  history,  but  there  is  a  fascination  also  in 
the  leveled  cities  of  the  Southwest,  under  which  lie 
the  rude  records  of  the  ancients  of  the  New  World. 
In  the  course  of  time  and  through  various  vicissitudes 
of  war,  famine  or  disease,  some  of  these  groups  were 
broken  up  and  the  survivors  forced  to  seek  refuge 
in  other  tribes  of  their  kin.  This  has  been  going  on  for 
millenniums.  The  organization  of  these  tribes  was 
rather  loose,  and  consisted  of  clans  which  are  made  up 
of  those  related  by  blood  ;  marriages  were,  as  they  are 
now,  prohibited  between  members  of  the  same  clan. 
This  was  another  cause  of  mixture.  So  it  happened 
that  in  our  deserts  there  was  a  wandering  of  the  ancient 
people  like  that  of  the  chosen  people,  but  their  simple 
clothing  waxed  old,  their  towns  waxed  old,  and  their 
mother  corn  only  blessed  them  by  hard  labor.  It  would 
seem  at  the  first  glance  that  some  great  unrest  filled  the 


WOLPI,  FROM  BELOW. 


Hillers,  photo. 


breasts  of  the  ancient  pueblo  dwellers  and  forced  them 
to  forever  move  on.  Ruins  without  number  attest  the 
flux  of  population  over  an  area  in  which  the  countries 
of  the  ancients  of  the  Old  World  would  be  lost.  Still 
these  ruins  are  not  without  order;  the  clans  moved 
along  together  in  those  dark  ages,  so  that  the  ruins  are 
found  in  groups.  Thus  if  we  hark  back  on  the  trail  by 
which  some  of  the  clans  came  from  the  south  to  Tusa- 
yan,  the  Mogollon  Mountains  at  Chavez  Pass  will  show 


TWIN   BUTTES  AND  CLOUDS. 


Yroman> 


two  large  ruins  to  which  Moki  tradition  gives  the  name 
of  "the  place  of  the  antelopes."  Thirty-two  miles  to 
the  north  is  the  next  stopping  place,  and  the  clans  must 
have  prospered  in  the  valley  of  the  Little  Colorado  at 
Winslow,  for  here  are  the  ruins  of  five  towns,  called  by 
those  versed  in  the  lore  of  the  past  Homolobi,  or  "  the 
place  of  the  two  views."  The  grand  panorama  of  the 
Moki  buttes  seen  from  "the  place  of  the  antelopes" 
was  still  visible  from  Homolobi,  though  at  a  lower  view- 
point. Long  before  the  conquistadores  came  to  ravage 
the  New  World,  the  people  of  Homolobi  had  abandoned 
their  towns  and  taken  up  their  weary  journey  to  Tusa- 
yan,  where  now  are  seven  towns  of  the  "  good  people." 
It  is  interesting  to  find  that  in  Wolpi  different  clans  live 
in  different  sections  of  the  town  just  as  they  had  camped 
together  in  the  old  days,  and  in  the  order  in  which  they 
came  from  their  desert  wandering.  This  journey  of 
some  of  the  clans  of  Mokis  began  much  farther  away 
than  the  two  faint  points  on  the  dim  Mogollones  where 
antelopes  range  to  this  day.  To  say  that  the  Mokis 
belong  by  language  to  the  great  Uto-Aztecan  stock 
means  that  in  bygone  times  they  were  in  contact  with 
the  Aztecs  or  may  even  have  been  a  branch  of  that  far- 
famed  people.  Just  here,  if  it  might  be  possible  to  correct 


AN   ARIZONA  CAMP. 

the  popular  hallucination  in  reference  to  the  Aztecs, 
it  would  be  well  to  say  that  that  mysterious  and  ever- 
vanishing  people  were  nothing  more  nor  less  than  Amer- 
ican Indians.  In  some  lines  of  work  the  Mokis  of 
Homolobi,  for  instance,  were  superior  to  the  Aztecs. 
Romance  and  the  Aztecs  have  been  sadly  mixed  up  by 
the  writers  of  a  past  generation. 

The  towns  of  Tusayan  are  seven.  Wolpi,  "  the  place 
of  the  gap,"  named  for  the  deep  cut  across  the  mesa  on 
which  it  is  built,  is  best  known.  The  people  are  very 
friendly  and  are  more  advanced  than  the  other  tribes 


27 


There  is  a  school  and  many  families  live  below  the  mesa 
in  red- roofed  houses.  Perhaps  in  a  few  years  the  old 
pueblo  will  be  abandoned  and  the  quaint  customs  for- 
gotten. 

Next  to  Wolpi  on  the  east  is  Si-chom'-ovi,  "  the 
mound  of  flowers,"  an  offshoot  of  Wolpi —  on  account  of 
a  disagreement,  it  is  thought. 

Ha'-no  (also  known  as  Te'-wa)  is  the  third  village  on 
the  First  or  East  Mesa,  near  the  gap.  Hano  is  a  village 
of  Tewans  who  were  induced  to  come  from  the  Rio 
Grande  two  centuries  ago  to  assist  in  defending  the 
peaceful  Mokis  from  the  Apaches  and  Utes.  They  were 
located  at  the  head  of  the  easiest  trail  up  the  mesa,  and 
on  a  smooth  rock  face  is  an  inscription  recording  a 
battle  in  which  they  vanquished  the  Utes.  These 
"keepers  of  the  trail"  are  expert  potters,  and 
most  of  the  Moki  ware  is  of  their  handicraft.  It 
seems  strange  to  find  in 
Tusayau  these  foreigners 
still  speaking  a  language 
different  from  that  of  their 
neighbors. 

Seven  miles  to  the  west, 
across     the     valley     from 
Wolpi,  the  point  of  Second 
or  Middle  Mesa  stands  out 
in    silhouette.      The    first 
town  is  called   Mi-shong'- 
inovi,  second  in  size  in 
Tusayan.      The  Snake 
dance  is  held  here  in  odd 
years,  as  at  Wolpi. 
At     such    times    | 
the    large   interior 
plaza  is  extremely 
picturesque.     On 


WOLPI   FOOT  TRAIL. 


HilUra,  photo. 


PUEBLO  OF  SICHOMOVI. 


'UEBLO  OF  TEWA   (HANO). 


Hilltr*,  photo. 


CORN   CARRIER. 


the  east  trail  to  Mishong- 
inovi  there  is  a  curious 
hanging  rock  forming  an 
arch  under  which  the  trail 
passes. 

Back  of  Mishonginovi  is 
the  small  town  of  Shi-paul'-ovi,  "  the 
place  of  the  peaches,"  the  most  pic- 
turesquely located  of  the  Moki  pu- 
eblos, and  with  the  most  elevated 
situation.  Shipaulovi  is  a  comparatively  modern  town, 
having  been  formed  by  families  from  Shung  o'-pavi  since 
the  Spaniards  introduced  peaches.  Here  the  Snake 
dance  is  held  in  even  years,  alternating  with  that  of  the 
Flute. 

Shungopavi,  "  the  place  of  the  reed  grass,"  is  a  few 
miles  west  of  Shipaulovi.     Reed  grass  is  prescribed  for 
the  mats  wound  around  the  ceremonial  wedding  blankets 
of  white  cotton.     A  small  country  place  of  Shungopavi 
is   located    at    Little   Burro    Spring, 
some    twelve    miles    south    of    the 
town. 

Oraibi,  with  its  fifty  mile  distant 
little  offshoot,  Mo"-en-kop'-i,  marks 
the  extreme  western,  as  Taos  marks 
the  eastern,  extent  of  the  pueblo 
region.  Nearly  one -half,  or  about 
eight  hundred,  of  the  Mokis  live  in 
Oraibi.  The  Snake  Society  at  this 
pueblo,  though  fewer  in  numbers 
than  at  several  of  the  other  towns, 
gives  an  interesting  performance. 
The  large  open  plaza  where  the  dance 
is  held  offers  excellent  opportunities 
for  photographing  and  for  viewing 
the  spectacle. 


31 


MAIL  CARRIER. 


SPINNER. 


In  the  even  years  visitors  to 
Tusayan  may  see  three  Snake  dances 
—  those  of  Oraibi,  Shipaulovi,  and 
Shungopavi,  unless  the  dates  coin- 
cide, which  they  are  unlikely  to  do. 
The  Province  of  Tusayan,  where 
the  Mokis  now  live  and  thrive,  is 
not  a  total  desert  waste,  although 
the  first  impression  of  those 
accustomed  to  green 
fields  and  frequent  rains 
is  likely  to  be  to  the 
contrary.  Drought- 
defying  plants  bloom  at 
certain  seasons,  and  fill 
wide  stretches  with  color. 
Along  the  sandy  washes,  adjacent  to  the  pueblos,  which 
rarely  by  the  good  will  of  the  rain  gods  show  a  silver 
glint  of  water,  are  corn  fields  and  melon  and  bean 
patches,  well  cared  for  and  jeal- 
ously guarded  by  their  owners. 
Internecine  war  is  waged  against 
the  freebooting  crows,  mice, 
prairie  dogs  and  insects,  and  woe 
betide  any  four-footed  marauder 
that  is  caught  foraging 
there;  he  is  soon  roasted 
and  supplying  proto- 
plasm to  the  Moki 
organism;  except  in  case 
of  a  burro,  when  his 
ears  are  docked  in  pro- 
portion to  the  magni- 
tude or  incorrigibility 
of  his  misdeed,  to  brand 
him  publicly  as  a  thief. 


Copyright,  law.  by  F.  II.  Mu»<i«.        U««i  by  jNrr 
BASKET-WEAVER. 


On  the  rocky  side  of  the  mesa  are 
thriving  peach  orchards,  perfectly 
free  from  blight  or  insect  enemies, 
and  in  the  proper  season  loaded  down 
with  luscious  fruit  of  which  the 
Mokis  are  extravagantly  fond.  A  few 
cottonwoods  among  the  fields,  the 
peach  trees,  and  the  cedars  along  the 
mesa  sides,  are  all  the  trees  to  be 
seen.  These  cedar  forests  are  to  the 
Moki  towns  what  a  vein  of  coal  is  to 
a  civilized  town  —  the  fuel  supply 
always  getting  farther  away  and 
harder  to  reach,  because  the  annual 
growth  of  a  desert  cedar  is  almost 
imperceptible.  Though  veins  of  coal 
peep  out  in  many  places  near  the 
pueblos,  the  Mokis  do  not  use  it, 
although  they  seem  to  have  known 
what  coal  is  long  before  our  wise  men 
settled  the  question;  the  native  name 
for  it  is  "rock  wood,"  koowa,  a  word 
which  resembles  our  word  coal.  The 
score  or  so  of  fruits,  grains  and  veg- 
etables which  the  Mokis  plant  would, 
in  favorable  seasons,  cause  peace  and 
plenty  to  reign  in  Tusayan,  but  Moki 
history  has  some  sad  tales  of  famine. 
When  the  crops  fail,  the  "good  people"  of  necessity 
fall  back  on  the  crops  of  nature's  own  sowing  in  the 
desert.  Old  people  still  gather  a  plant  for  greens, 
which  they  say  has  before  now  preserved  the  tribe  from 
starvation.  Dried  bunches  of  this  plant  may  often  be 
seen  ornamenting  the  rafters  of  their  dwellings,  amidst 
a  medley  of  other  curious  things.  The  fare  of  the 
pueblo  is  eked  out  in  ordinary  times  with  edible  roots, 


MOTHER   AND   CHILD. 


SPINNER   AND   WEAVER. 


seeds,  berries,  and  leaves 
gathered  from  far  and 
near.  The  Mokis  are 
practical  botanists.  No 
plant  has  escaped  their 
piercing  eyes ;  they  have 
given  them  names  and 
found  out  their  good  and 
bad  qualities ;  pressed 
them  into  service  for 
food,  medicine,  religion, 
basket  making  and  a  hun- 
dred other  uses,  from  an 
antidote  for  snake  bites 
to  a  hair  brush.  They 
are  also  perforce  vegeta- 
rians. Onate,  the  Conqueror,  said  slightingly  of  Zuni 
that  there  were  as  many  rabbits  as  people  around  it. 
Such  a  condition  of  things  in  Tusayan  would  fill  the 
Moki  with  joy,  for  he  has  the  same  fondness  for  rabbit 
as  the  negro  has  for  "  'possum  with  coon  gravy." 
Snakes  seem  to  be  more  plentiful  than  rabbits,  although 
it  takes  ardent  hunting  to  catch  enough  reptiles  for  the 
Snake  dance.  Rats,  mice,  prairie  dogs  and  an  occa- 
sional deceased  burro  or  goat  vary  the  menu  of  the 
pueblos.  The  Mokis  never  eat  their  dogs,  though  to 
do  so  would  be  at  least  putting  them  to  some  use. 

Centuries  ago,  when  the  Mokis  lived  in  the  White 
Mountains  and  the  Mogollones,  they  must  have  been 
hunters.  What  could  have  driven  them  from  that  para- 
dise of  coolness  and  greenery  ?  There  under  the  giant 
pines  roamed  elk,  deer,  antelope  and  bear;  in  the  brush 
were  turkey;  in  the  trees  birds  and  squirrels;  in  the  cool 
streams  were  trout,  and  the  wild  bees  furnished  delicious 
honey.  There  was  abundant  rain,  and  in  the  broad 
valleys  corn  could  be  raised  by  "dry  fanning."  For 


PUEBLO  OF  MISHONGINOVI. 


PUEBLO  OF  SHIPAULOVI. 


Hitters,  photo. 


DRESS   WEAVING. 


that  Arizonian  oasis 
of  flowers  and  plenty 
the  ancestors  of  the 
Moki  often  must 
have  sighed,  but 
desert  and  a  crust 
were  preferable  to 
the  bloodthirsty 
Apache.  This  is  the 
history  of  many  an 
enforced  migration. 
Now,  pursuing 
the  order  in  which 
the  traveler  becomes 
familiar  with  the 
surroundings  of  the  Moki,  from  the  distant  approach, 
when  the  mesas  swim  in  the  mirage  with  the  dim 
outlines  of  the  cell  towns  on  their  crests,  to  when  he 
encamps  by  the  corn  fields  and  springs  at  their  base, 
we  will  next  toil  up  the  trail  to  visit.  Far  out  in  the 
plain  the  watchful  Moki  from  his  high  vantage  has  seen 
the  approach  of  visitors,  and  the  news  flies  fast.  There 
will  surely  be  some  of  the  inhabitants  to  greet  the 
traveler  when  he  arrives,  to  wonder  at  his  outfit,  ask  for 
piba  and  matchi  (tobacco  and  matches),  run  errands  and 
be  on  the  lookout  for  windfalls  of  food. 
If  the  traveler  wishes  a  washerman,  a 
boy  to  graze  the  horses  or  carry  water 
and  wood,  or  if  he  wishes  to  rent  a 
house,  he  will  soon  find  willing 
hands  and  plenty  of  advisers.  Shiba 
(silver)  makes  things  run  smoothly 
here  as  in  civilization. 
Starting  at  the  altitude 
of  a  mile  and  one-fourth, 
the  climbing  of  a  mesa 


DYER.          Voth,  photo. 


is  somewhat  of  a  task  to  the  unaccustomed.  When  the 
fierce  sun  is  high,  the  climb  may  have  frequent  periods 
of  pause,  and  the  natives  who  run  up  and  down  the  mesa 
as  though  it  were  a  short  flight  of  stairs  are  objects 
of  envy.  But  when  the  ascent  is  made  and  one  sits  in 
the  shade  and  hospitality  of  a  Moki  interior,  the  exer- 
tion is  repaid.  It  is  a  new  and  memorable  experience. 


PUEBLO    OF   SHUNGOPAVI. 


Hitters,  photo. 


The  nineteenth  century  civilization,  with  its  tall  build- 
ings and  bustling  crowds,  fades  away  and  we  are  in  the 
ancient  past  of  the  southwest  wonderland. 

The  Mokis  are  almost  invariably  pleased  to  have 
white  visitors  enter  their  houses.  Most  of  them  invite 
you  in,  all  smiles  and  hospitality.  In  most  cases,  though, 
where  there  is  any  doubt  it  is  better  to  say,  "  een  quaqui 


37 


ORAIBI   GIRLS   GRINDING  CORN. 


Tijiton,  photo. 


tsit"  (am  I  wel- 
come?) which 
brings  a  hearty 
response.  The 
houses  have 
thick  walls  of 
flat  stone,  laid 
up  in  mud,  plas- 
tered inside  and 
out,  and  are 
pleasantly  cool 
in  the  summer. 
The  hard,  smooth,  plastered  floor  is  the  general  sitting 
place,  with  the  interposition  of  a  blanket  or  sheep- 
skin. The  low  bench,  or  ledge,  which  often  runs 
around  the  room,  is  also  used  as  a  seat.  Perhaps 
the  ceiling  will  appear  strange.  The  large  cottonwood 
beams  with  smaller  cross-poles  backed  with  brush;  above 
that,  grass  and  a  top  layer  of  mud  form  a  very  picturesque 
ceiling  and  effective  roof.  From  the  center  of  the  ceiling 
hangs  a  feather  tied  to  a  cotton  string.  This  is  the  soul 
of  the  house  and  the  sign  of  its  dedication;  no  house  is 
without  one.  Around  the  walls  and  from  the  beams 
hang  all  sorts  of  quaint  belongings  —  painted  wooden 
dolls,  bows  and  arrows,  strings  of  dried  herbs  and  myste- 
rious bundles,  likely  of  trappings  for  the  dances — enough 
to  stock  a  museum.  In  well-to-do  families 
the  blanket  pole,  extending  across  the  room, 
is  loaded  with  their  riches  in  the  shape  of 
harness,  sashes,  blankets  and  various 
other  valuables.  In  one  corner  is  a 
fireplace  with  hood  ;  sunk  in  the  floor 
are  the  corn  mills ;  near  by  is  a 
large  water  jar  with  dipper,  and 
sundry  pieces  of  pottery  are  scat- 
tered about.  Usually  the 


MAKING  BREAD   (PIKl). 


A  COURT   IN   ORAIBI. 


general  assembly  room  is  kept  clean  with  the  brushes 
made  of  grass  stems,  which  serve  also  for  hair  brushes 
betimes.  This  parlor,  sitting  room,  sleeping  room, 
dining  room  and  mealing  room  combined,  serves 
nearly  every  purpose  of  the  family;  but  there  is  always 
a  grain  room,  where  the  corn  is  piled  in  neat  rows, 
and  sometimes  a  room  is  set  apart  for  baking.  The 
houses  are  rarely  higher  than  two  stories,  the  upper 
being  set  back  in  terrace  style,  so  that  its  front  door 
yard  is  the  roof  of  the  lower.  The  ladders  are  pic- 
turesque; dogs  and  chickens,  as  well  as  people,  climb 
up  and  down.  Stone  steps  on  the  partition  walls 
lead  to  the  roofs,  and  when  on  top  it  is  possible  to 
wander  almost  all  over  the  town,  as  in  the  Orient.  Ajar 
with  the  bottom  knocked  out  caps  the  chimney,  or  a 
whole  stack  of  jars  runs  clear  up  from  the  lower  floor, 
securely  plastered  around  the  joints,  making  an  excel- 
lent chimney.  Short  billets  of  pinon  or  cedar  are  piled 
up  on  the  walls  for  firewood,  and  not  a  chip  or  strand  of 
bark  is  wasted  from  the  family  woodpile.  From  the  pro- 
jecting beam  ends  and  from  pegs  in  the  house  front  hangs 


an  old  curiosity  shop  of 
articles  —  eagle  traps, 
gourds,  hoes,  planting 
sticks,  sheep  bones,  and 
many  other  articles  that 
keep  one  guessing.  On 
the  top  of  a  house  in  Moki- 
land  once  was  seen  a  curi- 
ous structure,  having 
slanting  sides  formed  of 
bits  of  boards.  On  closer 
examination  it  was  found 
to  be  a  plow,  which  the 
good  people  at  Washington 
had  sent  the  Mokis,  now  doing  service  as  a  chicken 
coop.  Outside  the  door  by  the  street  is  the  pigame 
oven,  in  which  green  corn  pudding  is  baked,  food  dear 
to  the  Moki  heart  and  acceptable  to  any  white  visitor 
who  does  not  know  that  the  women  chew  the  yeast 
to  ferment  the  batter.  This  oven  is  a  pit  in  the  ground 
two  or  three  feet  deep.  Before  baking,  a  fire  is  made  in 
it,  and  after  the  walls  of  the  oven  are  heated  the  ashes 
are  raked  out  and  the  pudding,  called  pigame,  is  put 
in  and  the  top  covered  with  a  stone  on  which  the  fire 
is  kept  burning.  The  pudding  is  put  in  the  oven  at 


Voth,  photo. 
ORAIBI   WASHERWOMAN. 


PUEBLO  OF  ORAIBI. 


nightfall  usually,  and  by  morning 
it  is  well  baked  and  ready  to  be 
wrapped  in  corn  husks  for  con- 
sumption. 

A  stroll  about  a  Moki  town  will 
convince  the  explorer  that  there 
are  streets  full  of  "surprises,"  as 
we  call  unexpected  nooks  and 
corners  in  our  own  houses.  Just 
what  the  building  regulations  are 
no  one  has  yet  divulged,  but  the 
lay  of  the  ground  has  much  to  do 
with  the  arrangement.  Wolpi  is 
crowded  upon  the  point  of  a  nar- 
row mesa,  and  some  of  the  houses 
are  perched  on  the  edge  of  the 
precipice,  their  foundation  walls 
going  down  many  feet,  the  build- 
ing of  which  is  a  piece  of  adven- 
turous engineering.  Many  of  the 

towns  have  passages  under  the  houses  leading  from  one 
street  to  another.  The  stone  surface  of  the  street  is 
deeply  worn  by  the  bare  or  moccasined  feet  of  many 

generations.    The  trail  over 
the  dizzy  narrows  between 
Wolpi    and    Sichomovi    is 
worn    like  a  wagon    track 
in  places  from  four  to   six 
inches  deep.     The  end  of  a 
ladder  sticking  up  through 
a  hatchway  in  a  low  mound 
slightly   above   the 
level    of     the    street 
marks    the    way 
down  into    an 
u  n  d  ergroun  d 


SICHOMOVI  FOOT  TRAIL. 


A  MESA  CLIFFSIDE. 


A   MOKI   INTEKIOK. 


/i-vman,  photo. 


room,  where  strange  ceremonies  are  held.  This  is  a  kiva, 
and  if  we  are  hardy  enough  to  brave  the  usual  warning 
to  the  uninitiated,  we  may  peep  down  without  fear  of 
swelling  up  and  bursting.  Perhaps,  if  there  is  no  cere- 
mony going  on,  a  weaver  may  be  making  a  blanket 
on  his  simple  loom  ;  likely  it  is  deserted,  dusky  and 
quiet  with  no  suggestion  of  writhing  serpents  or  naked 
votaries  and  weird  chanting.  All  streets  lead  to  the 
plaza,  the  center  of  interest,  set  apart  for  the  many 
dances ;  some  solemn  and  awe-inspiring,  some  grotesque 
and  amusing ;  all  dramatic  in  action  and  marvelous  in 
color.  In  the  center  of  the  plaza  is  a  stone  box.  This 
is  a  shrine,  the  focus  at  which  all  ceremonies  center,  and 
beneath  it  is  the  opening  into  the  underworld  of 


departed  ancestors. 
Around  most  plazas  in 
Tusayan  the  houses  are 
built  solidly ;  at  Wolpi 
the  dances  take  place  on 
a  narrow  shelf  above 

POTTERS. 

the  dizzy  sandstone 

cliffs ;  at  Oraibi  one  side  of  the  plaza  where  the  Snake 
dance  is  enacted  is  open  and  the  distant  San  Francisco 
mountains  stand  plainly  on  the  horizon. 

Outside  the  town  there  is  also  something  to  see. 
The  general  ash  pile  with  its  stray  burro  engaged  in  a 
hopeless  task  of  finding  something  to  eat  is  passed  by, 
and  one  looks  down  over  the  brow  of  the  mesa  at  the 
corrals  among  the  rocks  on  a  narrow  ledge  crowded  with 
bleating  sheep  and  goats.  The  trails  wind  down  the 
mesa,  across  the  fields,  and  are  lost  in  the  country  lying 
spread  out  below  like  a  map.  Under  the  rocks  a  woman 
is  digging  out  clay  for  pottery,  other  women  are  toiling 
up  with  jars  of  water  from  the 
springs,  while  on  the  steep  slope 
among  the  jagged  fragments  of 
stone  is  perhaps  the  last  resting 
place  of  the  inhabitants,  strewn 
with  bits  of  pottery.  The  springs 
in  Tusayan  come  out  near  the 
base  of  the  mesas,  and  the  labor 
of  carrying  water  up  some  600  feet 
by  means  of  the  female  beast  of 
burden  puts  water  at  a  premium . 
It  is  a  blessing  that  the  dry, 
searching  air  of  the  elevated 
region,  and  the  fierce  sun,  do  not 
render  bathing  an  actual  neces- 
sity. Most  of  the  springs  yield 
little  water,  so  that  a  large  party 


43 


Maude,  photo. 
A   MOKI   FAMILY. 


of  visitors  with  horses 
camping  about  a  pueblo 
will  give  rise  to  fears  of 
a  water  famine.  Placed 
on  the  borders  of  every 
spring,  down  close  to 
the  water,  may  be  seen 
short  painted  sticks 
with  feather  plumes  — 
prayer  offerings  to  the 
gods  for  a  continued 
supply  of  the  precious 
fluid,  the  scarcity  of 
which  from  clouds  or 
springs  has  had  to  do 
with  the  origin  of 
many  ceremonies  in  the 
Southwest.  The  lack  of 
water  even  fills  in  a 

large  part  of  the  conversation  of  white  visitors  in  this 
dry  country,  taking  the  place  of  the  weather,  which  is 
unlikely  to  change. 

Let  us  follow  up  the  trail  again  after  the  toiling 
water  carriers,  returning  from  the  general  meeting  and 
gossiping  place,  the  spring.  Let  no  one  think  that 
there  has  been  a  lack  of  company  in  the  course  of  these 
wanderings.  There  are  the  children  first,  last  and  all 
the  time,  all  pervading,  timid,  but  made  bold  by  the 
prospect  of  sweets.  It  is  amusing  to  see  a  little  tot 
come  hesitatingly  as  near  as  he  dares  to  a  white  vis- 
itor, and  say,  "  Hel-lo  ken-te  "  (candy).  Unclad  before 
three  or  four  years  of  age,  the  little  ones  look  like- 
animated  bronzes —  "  fried  cupids,"  one  amused  onlooker 
has  termed  them.  The  older  girls  have  general  char.m 
of  the  young  ones,  and  carry  them  about  pick-a-back; 
sometimes  it  is  difficult  to  tell  whether  the  carrier  or 


AN   ORAIBI   GIRL. 


H 


A   MISHONGINOVI   GIRL. 


the  carried  is  the  larger.  The  children 
are  good,  and  seem  never  to  need  cor- 
rection, and  anyone  can  see  with  half  an 
eye  that  the  Mokis  love  their  little  ones. 
They  never  are  so  flattered  as 
when  attention  is  paid  to  the 
children.  Do  this  with  an  ad- 
miring look,  accompanied  by  the 
word  ' '  Lof-lomai  "  (good,  excel- 
lent, pretty),  and  the  parental 
heart  is  won.  When  the  rains 
fill  the  rock  basins  on  the  mesa,  < 
these  youngsters  have  a  famous 
time  bathing,  squirming  like 
tadpoles  in  the  pools,  splashing 
and  chasing  each  other.  The 
Moki  childlife  must  be  a  uniformly  happy  one,  except  in 
the  season  of  green  things,  when  they  are  allowed  to  eat 
without  limit.  The  statistics  of  highest  mortality  must 
coincide  with  the  time  of  watermelons,  which  are  never 
too  unripe  to  eat.  Dogs,  chickens 
and  burros  also  add  to  the  pictur- 
esqueness  of  a  Moki  village.  The 
burros  have  the  run  of  the  town, 
and  furnish  amusement  for  the 
children.  When  providence  or  luck 
has  prevented  a  burro  from  stealing 
corn,  his  ears  have  a  normal,  if  not 
graceful  length.  Few  there  are, 
though,  that  have  not  paid  penalty 
by  the  loss  of  one  or  both  of  these 
appendages.  Chickens  and  dogs 
are  a  sorry  lot.  The  latter  lie  in 
the  corners  and  shady  places,  and 
only  become  animate  and  vocal  at 
night,  with  true  coyote  instinct. 


45 


A  MISHONGINOVI   WOMAN. 


SNAKE   KIVA,    ORAIBI. 


A  shrill  whistle  denotes  that  some 
Moki  is  the  fortunate  possessor  of 
an  eagle  to  supply  him  with  the 
prized  feathers    for  ceremonials. 
The  man  who  is  opulent  enough 
to  keep  a  turkey  also  has  feathers 
for  the    gathering.      Women 
go  about  on  various  errands 
or  pay  visits  in  which  gossip 
bears  a  large  share.     Many  a 
pair  of  dark   eyes  peep   out 
from    the   light -hole   in   the 
walls    of    the    houses,    or    a 
maiden  with  hair  done  up  in 

whorls  takes  a  modest  glance  at  the  strangers.  The 
weird,  high-pitched  songs  of  the  corn  grinders,  and 
the  rumble  of  the  niealing-stones,  are  familiar  sounds 
in  a  Moki  village.  If  you  see  a  woman  or  maiden  with 
face  powdered  with  corn  flour,  it  means  that  she  has 
been  busy  grinding  in  the  hopper-like  mills  sunken  in 
the  floor  of  every  house, —  and  very  hard  labor  it  is. 
Most  of  the  able-bodied  men  are  in  the  fields  if  the  time 
is  summer,  that  is  if  no  ceremony  is  going  on  —  a  rare 
contingency.  Moki  men  are  not  afraid  of  work.  From 
youth  until  the  time  when  they  are  enrolled  in  the  class 
of  the  lame,  halt  and  blind,  they  do  their  share  for  the 
support  of  the  clan.  Not 
averse  to  soothing  the 
baby  as  his  white  brother 
sometimes  may  be,  his 
domestic  habits  will  not 
take  him  so  far  as  to  do 
women's  work.  Since  the 
time  when  his  sweetheart 
combed  his  raven  locks  in 
sign  of  betrothal,  and  he 


OJeT  %'hartoH  'Jam*. 

ANTELOPE  ALTAR   IN  KIVA. 


U»»d  by  ptrmission. 


had    woven    the    wedding    blanket,    and    the    simple 
marriage  forms  were  observed,  the  traditional  division  of 
labor   has    not    been    transgressed.      Man's    work  and 
woman's  work  are  portioned  off  by  the  laws  of  unalter- 
able custom.      The  division  seems  fair  as  to  the  amount 
of  labor.     A  popular  illusion  that  the  Indian  makes  his 
wife  do  all  the  work  is  dispelled  here,  as  another,  that 
Indians  are  always  gruff  and  taciturn,  will  vanish  after 
a  quarter  of  an  hour's  acquaintance   with   the  jovial, 
laughing  Mokis.     The  house  belongs  to  the  woman,  and 
it  is  proper  that  she  should 
do  the  labor  connected  with 
it,  grind  the  corn,  carry  the 
water,  do  the  cooking,  keep 
the  house  tidy,  and  mind  the 
baby.      Fortunately,   Moki 
babies  do  not  long  require 
much  attention ;  they  soon 
take    care    of    themselves 
under   the   general    super- 
vision of  the  older  children. 
The    young  boys,   perhaps, 
with  bow  in  hand,  go  to  the 
field  with  the  men,  for  here 
is  where  man's  work  comes 
in  under  the  broiling   sun, 

roth,  photo. 

preparing  the  ground,  plant-  WOMEN-S  DANCE,  ORAIBI. 

ing  the  crops,  hoeing,  keep- 
ing off  the  crows,  prairie  dogs,  mice  and  insects,  setting 
up  breaks  against  the  wind  or  sudden  rush  of  water, 
gathering  the  crops  and  bringing  them  to  the  house  on 
the  mesa.  He  brings  wood  chopped  from  the  pifions 
and  cedars  several  miles  away,  and  hustles  generally  to 
supply  the  family.  If  he  has  horses  and  a  wagon  by  the 
bounty  of  Wasintona,  he  may  get  odd  jobs  of  hauling, 
which  bring  him  in  money  for  sugar,  coffee  and  white 


47 


B|  ^^^j^ft  man's  flour,  purchasable  from   the 

jjdUbnRMH^^R  6  trader.      Besides     their    customary 

*^B^  .<  J&9P  work,    some    of   the  women    have 

•-^^.w*1  Hp^         other    occupations.      At    the    East 

THIEF  BURRO.  Mesa  she  may  be  a  potter,  at  the 

Middle    Mesa    or    Oraibi   a   basket 

maker,  but  never  a  weaver,  for  that,  strangely  enough, 
is  man's  work.  In  the  quiet  of  her  house  the  basket 
maker  is  busy,  for  are  not  many  Pahanas  coming  to  the 
Snake  dance  ?  Sugar  and  baking  powder  for  the  feast 
may  depend  on  the  sales  of  baskets.  Around  her  on  the 
floor  are  gay  colored  splints  of  yucca  leaf,  dyed  with  the 
evanescent  aniline  colors  introduced  by  the  traders. 
Some  of  the  strips  are  being  moistened  in  a  bed  of  damp 
sand,  from  which  they  are  taken  to  be  sewn  through  and 
over,  covering  the  coil  of  grass  with  geometric  designs. 
The  needle  is  really  an  awl;  now  of  iron,  formerly  of 
bone.  At  Oraibi,  where  one  of  the  three  Snake  dances 
held  in  Tusayan  in  the  even  years  occurs,  painted  baskets 
of  wicker  are  made.  They  are  very  decorative.  The 
potter  also  plies  her  craft  for  the  advent  of  the  white 
man.  The  clay  has  been  gathered,  prepared,  and  made 
into  vessels  of  forms  tempting  to  the  visitor,  painted 
and  burned  at  the  foot  of  the  mesa  so  that  the  villainous 
smoke  will  not  choke  everyone.  Her  wares  are  quaint 
and  not  half  bad.  Nampeo,  at  Hano,  is  the  best  potter 
in  all  Moki-land. 

Of  course  little  figures  have  to  be  carved  from  cotton- 
wood,  painted  and  garnished  to  resemble  the  numerous 
divinities  of  the  Mokis  who  take  part  in  the  ceremonies. 
Men  and  women  make  them  for  their  children,  who 
thus  get  kindergarten  instruction  on  the  appearance  of 
the  inhabitants  of  the  spiritual  world.  These  "dolls" 
can  often  be  bought ;  they  are  among  the  most  curious 
souvenirs  of  the  Moki.  The  weaver,  too,  spends  his 
odd  times  in  weaving  the  far-famed  blankets  of  wool, 


dyed  blue  with  sunflower  seeds.  He  knows  well  the  way 
to  weave  pretty  diaper  patterns  which  remind  one  of 
French  worsted  designs.  The  blankets  are  serviceable  to 
the  last  degree  and  in  the  loose  garment  of  the  women 
will,  perhaps,  endure  a  whole  generation.  Belts  of  bright 
colored  yarns,  embroidered  kilts  of  cotton  and  embroid- 
ered woolen  sashes  are  chef-dSceuvres  of  the  weaver. 

The  light  side  of  life  is  uppermost  in  Moki-land.  The 
disposition  of  the  Moki  is  to  make  work  a  sport,  neces- 
sity a  pleasure  and  to  have  a  laugh  or  joke  ready  in 
an  instant.  This  is  the  home  of  song  makers ;  the 
singing  of  the  men  at  work,  of  the  mother  to  her  babe, 
of  the  corn  grinders,  of  the  priests  in  assembly  chamber 
or  in  the  ^zVa-vault,  constantly  ripples  forth.  There  is 
no  need  for  songs  of  the  day ;  love  songs,  lullabys, 
war  songs,  hunting  songs,  songs  secular  and  religious 
give  variety  in  plenty.  The  dark  side  exists,  to  be  sure, 
but  the  Mokis  are  so  like  children  that  a  smile  lurks  just 
behind  a  sorrow.  The  seriousness  and  gravity  with 
which  the  ceremonials  are  conducted  is  very  impressive, 
and  no  one  who  has  seen  the  Snake  dance  will  fail  to 
note  that  the  Moki  can  be  grave  at  times.  Telling 
stories  is  one  of  the  amusements  of  winter  around  the 
fireside.  Until  the  ground  is  frozen  it  is  dangerous  to 
relate  the  deeds  of  the  ancients :  then  they  have  gone 
away  and  will  not  overhear  to  the  harm  of  the  story- 
teller. Rabbit  hunting  is  another  favorite  amusement, 
and  parties  of  young  men  often  do  more  hard  work  in 
one  day  thus  than  in  a  month  otherwise  with  few  results 
to  show  of  "  long  ears  "  slain  by  the  curved  boomerang. 
In  the  proper  season  berrying  parties  go  out  for  a  day's 
picnic  ;  the  Mokis  enjoy  traveling,  and  a  journey  of 
fifteen  or  twenty  miles  to  a  berry  patch  and  back  is  not 
thought  anything  out  of  common.  When  the  green 
corn  comes  then  the  Moki  lives  bountifully.  Tall  col- 
umns of  white  steam  arising  in  the  cornfields  at  early 


morning  invite  to  a  feast  of  roast  corn  taken  from  the 
newly  opened  pit-oven.  Then  there  is  feasting  while  the 
ears  are  hot  and  jollity  reigns.  One  thing  will  strike 
the  visitor  as  curious  :  the  Mokis  do  not  gamble  or  drink 
fire-water,  even  when  they  have  an  opportunity.  They 
do  like  tobacco,  though,  and  the  visitor  who  smokes  will 
do  well  to  lay  in  an  extra  supply,  for  after  the  first 
greeting,  "/i#,"  the  next  query  will  be  " piba"  (to- 
bacco), followed  by  "  matchi"  (matches),  and  a  friendly 
smoke  council  is  held  then  and  there. 

The  Mokis  are  the  best  entertained  people  in  the 
world.  A  round  of  ceremonies,  each  terminating  in  the 
pageants  called  "dances,"  keeps  going  pretty  continu- 
ously the  whole  year.  The  theaters  and  other  shows  in 
the  closely  built  pueblos  of  the  white  man  fall  far  short 
of  entertaining  all  the  people,  as  do  the  Moki  shows. 
Then  the  Moki  spectacles  are  free.  The  scheme  of  hav- 
ing a  gatekeeper  on  the  trails  to  demand  an  entrance  fee, 
while  it  has  great  possibilities,  has  never  entered  the 
Moki  mind.  This,  too,  for  a  good  reason.  These  cere- 
monies are  religious  and  make  up  the  complicated  wor- 
ship of  the  people  of  Tusayan.  Even  a  visitor  bent  on 
sightseeing  alone  will  be  impressed  with  the  seriousness 
of  the  Indian  dancers  and  the  evidence  of  deep  feeling  — 
perhaps  it  should  be  called  devotion  —  in  the  onlookers. 
Not  only  in  the  somber  Snake  dance,  but  in  every  other 
ceremony  of  Tusayan  the  actors  are  inspired  by  one  pur- 
pose and  that  is  to  persuade  the  gods  to  give  rain  and 
abundant  crops.  So  the  birds  that  fly,  the  reptiles  that 
creep,  are  made  messengers  to  the  great  nature  gods 
with  petitions,  and  the  different  ancestors  and  people 
in  the  underworld  are  notified  that  the  ceremony  is 
going  on  that  they  too  may  give  their  aid.  The  amount 
of  detail  connected  with  the  observance  of  one  of  the 
ceremonies  is  almost  beyond  belief,  and  being  carried  on 
in  the  dark  kivas  has  rarely  been  witnessed  by  others 

50 


than  the  initiated  priests.  Thus  the 
many  observances  which  come  around 
from  time  to  time  in  two  years  are 
quite  a  tax  on  the  memory  of  the 
adepts. 

The  ceremonial  year  of  the  Moki 
is  divided  equally  by  two  great  events, 
the  departure  of  the  kachinas  in 
August  and  their  arrival  in  Decem- 
ber. The  kachinas  are  the  spirits  of 
the  ancestors  whose  special  pleasure 
it  is  to  watch  over  Tusayan.  When 
the  crops  are  assured  they  depart  for 
Nuvatikiobi)  "the  place  of  the  high  snows, 
Francisco  Mountain.  After  their  departure  come  the 
Snake  and  Flute  dances,  among  others,  and  all  the 
dances  up  to  the  return  of  the  kachinas  are  called 
"nine  days'  ceremonies,"  while  the  joyous  kachina 
dances  are  known  as  the  "masked  dances." 

All  who  become  acquainted  with  the  Mokis  learn  to 
respect  and  like  them.  Fortunate  is  the  person  who, 
before  it  is  too  late,  sees  under  so  favorable  aspect  their 
charming  life  in  the  old  new  world. 

WAI/TER  HOUGH. 


A  TEWA  GIRL. 


or  San 


THE  SNAKE  LEGEND. 

The  Snake  dance  is  an  elaborate  prayer  for  rain,  in  which  the 
reptiles  are  gathered  from  the  fields,  intrusted  with  the  prayers  of 
the  people,  and  then  given  their  liberty  to  bear  these  petitions  to 
the  divinities  who  can  bring  the  blessing  of  copious  rains  to  the 
parched  and  arid  farms  of  the  Hopis.  It  is  also  a  dramatization  of 
an  ancient  half-mythic,  half-historic  legend  dealing  with  the  origin 
and  migration  of  the  two  fraternities  which  celebrate  it,  and  by 
transmission  through  unnumbered  generations  of  priests  has  be- 
come conventionalized  to  a  degree,  and  possibly  the  actors  them- 
selves could  not  now  explain  the  significance  of  every  detail  of  the 
ritual.  The  story  is  of  an  ancestral  Snake-youth,  Ti'yo,  who,  pon- 
dering the  fact  that  the  water  of  the  river  flowed  ever  in  the  same 


51 


direction  past  his  home  without  returning  or  filling  up  the  gorge 
below,  adventurously  set  out  to  ascertain  what  became  of  it.  He 
carried  with  him,  by  paternal  gift,  a  precious  box  containing  some 
eagle's  down  and  a  variety  of  prayer-sticks  (pahos)  for  presentation 
to  the  Spider-woman,  the  Ancient  of  the  Six  Cardinal  Points,  the 
Woman  of  the  Hard  Substance  (such  as  turquoise,  coral  and  shell), 
the  Sun,  and  the  underworld  divinity  who  makes  all  the  germs  of 
life.  The  Spider-woman  was  propitiated  and  cordially  became  his 
counselor  and  guide.  She  prepared  a  liquid  charm  to  be  taken  in 
the  mouth  and  spurted  upon  angry  beasts  and  snakes  for  their  paci- 
fication, and  perched  herself  invisibly  on  his  ear.  Then  through 
the  sipapu  they  plunged  to  the  underworld.  There,  following  float- 
ing wisps  of  the  eagle's  down,  they  journeyed  from  place  to  place, 
safely  passing  the  great  snake  Gato'ya,  and  savage  wild  beast  sen- 
tinels, visiting  Hi'canavaiya,  who  determines  the  path  of  the  rain- 
clouds,  and  Hi'zriingwikti,  the  ancient  woman  who  every  night 
becomes  an  enchanting  maiden  ;  had  a  smoke  with  Ta'wa,  the  Sun, 
and  went  with  him  to  inspect  the  place  where  he  rises  ;  meeting 
Miiiyingwuh  on  the  way  and  receiving  friendly  assurances  from 
that  creative  divinity.  He  rode  across  the  sky  on  the  Sun's  shoulder 
and  saw  the  whole  world,  and  learned  from  his  flaming  charioteer 
that  the  possession  most  dearly  to  be  prized  was  the  rain-cloud.  So 
he  returned  to  the  kiva  near  the  great  snake,  and  from  the  Snake 
Antelope  men  there  learned  what  songs  to  sing,  what  prayer-sticks 
to  fashion  and  how  to  paint  his  body,  that  the  rain-cloud  might 
come.  The  chief  gave  him  much  important  paraphernalia,  and 
two  maidens  who  knew  the  charm  preventing  death  from  the  bite 
of  the  rattlesnake.  These  maidens  Tiyo  took  home,  giving  one  to 
his  younger  brother,  where  the  youthful  couples  took  up  their  atode 
in  separate  kivas.  At  night  low  clouds  trailed  over  the  village,  and 
Snake  people  from  the  underworld  came  from  them  and  went  into 
the  kivas.  On  the  following  morning  they  were  found  in  the  val- 
leys, transformed  into  reptiles  of  all  kinds.  This  occurred  for  four 
days.  Then  (ninth  morning)  the  Snake  maidens  said,  "  We  under- 
stand this  ;  let  the  younger  brothers  (the  Snake  Society)  go  out  and 
bring  them  all  in  and  wash  their  heads,  and  let  them  dance  with 
you."  This  was  done,  and  prayer-meal  sprinkled  upon  them,  and 
then  they  were  carried  back  to  the  valleys,  and  they  returned  to 
the  Snake  kiva  of  the  underworld  bearing  the  petitions  of  all  the 
people. 

(Condensed  from  the  account  by  J.  Walter  Fewkes,  in  Jour.  Am. 
Ethn.  and  Arch.,  Vol.  IV.) 

It  is  only  the  ninth  day's  ceremony,  the  dance  with 
the  snakes,  which  is  publicly  performed. 

52 


MOKI  CEREMONIES. 

It  will  be  noted  that  the  Snake  dances  occur  during 
the  month  of  August,  the  date  being  between  the  I5th 
and  26th,  and  announced  a  few  days  prior  to  the  begin- 
ning of  the  nine  days'  ceremonies,  of  which  the  dance  is 
the  public  culmination.  In  the  even  years  (1900,  1902, 
1904,  etc.)  they  occur  at  Oraibi,  Shipaulovi  and  Sichom- 
ovi ;  in  the  odd  years  (1901,  1903,  1905,  etc.),  at  Wolpi 
and  Mishonginovi.  The  Flute  dances,  a  picturesquely 
impressive  but  less  exciting  ceremony,  occur  at  the 
above-named  pueblos  in  years  alternating  with  the  Snake 
dance.  For  example,  1900  being  the  year  of  the  Snake 
dance  at  Oraibi,  the  Flute  dance  at  that  pueblo  will  occur 
in  1901  ;  and  1899  having  been  the  year  of  the  Snake 
dance  at  Wolpi,  a  Flute  dance  will  occur  there  in  1900. 


ROUTES  TO  THE  MOKI  PUEBLOS. 

Far  from  being  difficult  of  access,  the  Province 
of  Tusayan  is  easily  reached  either  by  saddle  horse  or 
wheel  conveyance  from  several  towns  on  the  Santa  Fe 
Pacific  Railroad,  a  division  of  the  transcontinental  line 
of  the  Santa  Fe  route.  The  trip  can  be  made  most  con- 
veniently by  travelers  to  or  from  California  as  a  side 
excursion  en  route>  but  the  experience  will  amply  repay 
a  special  journey  across  the  continent.  Some  fatigue 
and  lack  of  comforts  incident  to  roughing  it  are  well- 
nigh  inseparable  from  such  an  excursion,  involving  as  it 
does  the  traversing  of  from  seventy  to  over  one  hundred 
miles  of  the  Great  American  Desert,  depending  upon  the 
point  selected  for  departure  from  the  railroad.  But 
these  very  features  are  accounted  no  small  part  of  the 
attractions  of  the  trip,  as  lovers  of  outdoor  life  amid 
scenes  of  novel  and  extraordinary  interest  need  not  be 

53 


told.  Indeed,  if  the  pueblos  as  an  objective  point  did 
not  exist,  a  voyage  into  that  country  of  extinct  volcanoes 
and  strangely  sculptured  and  tinted  rocks  and  mesas 
would  be  well  worth  the  making.  While  the  round  trip 
from  the  railroad  may  be  made  in  four  or  five  days,  or 
less  if  desired,  it  can  be  pleasurably  prolonged  indefi- 
nitely. Aside  from  the  powerful  charm  exerted  by  this 
region  upon  all  visitors,  there  is  an  invigorating  tonic 
quality  in  the  pure  air  of  Arizona  that  is  better  than 
medicine  for  the  overworked  in  the  exhausting  activities 
of  city  business  life.  Many  a  professional  man  (and 
woman),  wearied  in  brain  and  enfeebled  in  body,  having 
been  solicited  to  make  this  or  a  similar  outdoor  excursion 
in  Arizona,  has  complied  with  misgiving  and  returned 
almost  miraculously  restored  to  health  and  vigor. 
Testimony  to  this  fact  can  be  furnished  by  reference 
to  many  well-known  individuals,  who,  were  they 
entirely  free  to  indulge  their  preferences,  would  every 
summer  forego  the  seaside  and  the  fashionable  watering- 
place  and  return  to  Arizona  to  mount  a  sturdy  bronco, 
and  forget  for  a  time  the  cares  and  conventionalities  of 
civilized  life  in  a  simple,  wholesome  and  joyous  existence 
in  the  sunlit  air  of  the  desert. 

At  the  stations  named  all  needful  transportation 
facilities  are  provided,  whose  proprietors  are  accustomed 
to  convey  passengers  every  summer  to  the  Snake  dances. 
A  visit  to  the  Moki  pueblos  may,  however,  be  made  at 
any  season,  except  in  midwinter,  and  will  at  any  time 
prove  richly  interesting.  Arrangements  should  be  made 
in  advance  by  correspondence,  which  may  be  addressed 
to  either  the  local  agent  of  the  Santa  Fe  Route, 
W.  J.  Black,  General  Passenger  Agent,  Topeka ;  C.  A. 
Higgins,  Assistant  General  Passenger  Agent,  Chicago  ; 
W.  S.  Keenan,  General  Passenger  Agent,  Galveston ; 
Jno.  J.  Byrne,  General  Passenger  Agent,  L/os  Angeles; 
or  John  L.  Truslow,  General  Agent,  San  Francisco. 


[NOTE.  — The  distances  given  are  approximate,  as  in  some 
cases,  particularly  between  the  different  pueblos,  they  depend 
upon  whether  the  wagon  or  the  horse  trail  is  followed,  the  latter 
being  shorter.  The  transportation  charges  also  depend  somewhat 
upon  the  size  of  the  party.  One  or  two  persons  traveling  light  by 
way  of  the  shortest  route  could  reach  Oraibi  in  one  day  if  desired. 
Larger  or  more  leisurely  parties  would  require  two  days,  or  longer 
by  the  less  direct  routes.] 

Bancroft  Library 

Canon  Diablo  Route. 

To  McAllister's  Crossing 15  miles 

Volz's  Store,  "  The  Fields  " 17     " 

Ivittle  Burro  Spring 22  " 

Big  Burro  Spring 3     " 

Oraibi..  16  " 


73 
Middle  Mesa 20     " 

93     " 
Wolpi    10     " 

103     " 

NOTE. —  From  "  The  Fields  "  theie  is  a  horse  trail,  northeasterly 
course,  to  Middle  Mesa,  43  miles,  and  to  Wolpi,  53  miles. 

CHARGES. — $20  round  trip,  for  conveyance  by  wagon  ; 
meals  $i  each,  and  lodging  $i  per  night. 


55 


Winslow  Route. 
i. 

To  Rocky  Ford  Crossing 9  miles 

Junction  with  Canon  Diablo  road 

north  of  Volz's  Store 30     " 

L,ittle  Burro 20     " 

59  miles 
Oraibi 20     " 

79     " 
Wolpi 22     " 

81     " 

Wolpi  to  Middle  Mesa 10     " 

Middle  Mesa  to  Oraibi 20     " 

in     " 
2. 

To  Rocky  Ford  Crossing 9  miles 

Pyramid  Butte 26     " 

Commoh's  Spring 10     " 

Touchez-de-nez  (Sigenis) 25     " 

Wolpi 5     " 

75     " 

Middle  Mesa 10     " 

Oraibi 20     " 

105 

CHARGES. —  Named  on  application.  Team  and  driver 
for  four  should  cost  not  to  exceed  $5  per  day,  passengers 
furnishing  their  own  bedding  and  provisions.  Winslow 
is  provided  with  hotel  accommodations  and  outfitting 
stores. 


Holbrook  Route. 

To  lya  Reaux  Wash 1 1  miles 

Well  near  Cottonwood  Wash 6 

Cottonwood  Wash  crossing 3  ' ' 

Malpais  Spring 13  " 

Bittahoochee 7  " 

Tonnael  Malpais  Spring 12  " 

Jeditoh  Valley  Spring 22  ' ' 

Keam's  Canon 6  " 

Wolpi 10  " 

90     " 

Middle  Mesa 10     " 

Oraibi 20     " 

120     «' 

CHARGES. —  $15  round  trip,  for  conveyance  by  wagon, 
passengers  providing  their  own  camp  outfit  and  provi- 
sions. Holbrook  has  good  livery  and  hotel  accommoda- 
tions, and  stores. 


57 


Flagstaff  Route. 

To  Turkey  Tauks 19  miles 

Grand  Falls  Crossing 22     " 

Little  Burro 45     " 

Oraibi  . ,  18     " 


104 

Middle  Mesa 20 

Wolpi 10 


134 

CHARGES. —  For  wagon  conveyance,  $25  round  trip. 
Board  $3  per  day,  and  lodging  $i  per  night.  Or  pas- 
sengers may  provide  their  own  outfit  and  provisions 
and  arrange  with  liverymen  for  transportation  only. 
Hotel  accommodations,  livery  and  stores  at  Flagstaff 
are  excellent. 

It  is  also  practicable  to  make  the  trip  from  Gallup. 

This  route  is  not  shown  on  map  herein,  but  is  reported 

to  be  as  below  : 

To  Rock  Spring  Store 9  miles 

Hay  Stack  Store 12     " 

(Fort  Defiance,  9  miles  north.) 

Cienega 5     " 

Bear  Tank  (water  i  y2  miles  north) 20     " 

Cotton  &  Hubbell's  Store  (Ganada) n     " 

Eagle  Crag  (water  i^  miles  north) 23     " 

Steamboat  Canon  (water  3  miles  north) ...       8     " 

Keam's  Canon  School 18     " 

Ream's  Canon  Store 2     " 

Wolpi 10     " 

Middle  Mesa 10    " 

Oraibi 20     " 

CHARGES. — Named  on  application.  l& 

58 


•LAG  STAFF 


ROUTES 

TO  THE 

MOKI  PUEBLOS 

Scale  of  Miles 


CHICAGO 


I 


I 


